Weatherby
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: Percy's always worked hard at the ministry and now they're moving his desk! Why does no one appreciate him? But maybe this time, the mixup comes with a good ending...Be warned, fluff ahoy!


I'm thinking it's time for a fluff break. I got this idea from the name of some sue on Potter Sues (which I do not own btw) named Cherry Weatherby. Mortally offended that the sue author would use such a surname and not do anything with it regarding Percy I decided to take a stand and **_do something. _**Hence the following fluff ball.

Disclaimer: I don't own nor do I claim to own anything associated with the Harry Potter franchise. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

**Weatherby**

Percy Weasley wasn't exactly what most women would call a charming bloke. With wavy red hair that he kept neat, a serious look about him at all times and the never wavering, self prescribed dress code of sweater vests, button up oxfords and khakis, it was plain for all to see that Mr. Weasley was an all work sort of fellow. He kept his desk in right order and dusted it off every evening before leaving. He turned in every assignment early with twice the effort put into it than needed. Percy was a model employee. Surely he should have been in higher places, with higher callings and with much higher respect.

His entire life had been dedicated to achieving goals, rising above expectations, attaining acceptance from his superiors. And here he was having his desk moved at the whim of his floor manager. He had only just received the notice on his way in through the lavish Ministry lobby and now found himself in thought about the move as he stood alone in his elevator. Percy was always alone during his morning trip in the elevator. He arrived to work so early he certainly thought he ought to be and rather liked it that way.

Not that he was fit to protest about the move, but he did think he had earned more respect than he was being shown. Having aspired to his dream of working for the Ministry of Magic itself, Percy was willing to follow the orders given to him as he always had. Never one to complain, he had gotten used to being pushed around by his numerous brothers anyway. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he so desperately sought to rise above them all.

Just then the elevator took an unexpected halt. A frown graced Percy's features. Who was here this early?

The doors parted to reveal a woman about his own age. She offered no more than a tight lipped, polite smile. The kind that wasn't really a smile but an acknowledgment of another's presence. He did the same to her, nodding mildly as she stepped aboard and studied the number board. Apparently they were headed for the same floor because she refrained from pushing any buttons and settled back against the wall, a tense look on her face as if she were in the middle of something terribly stressful.

He knew it was rude to stare, but Percy couldn't help himself. It was human nature to size up the competition after all.

His brown eyes took in short, bouncy auburn curls. Further down the line and he came to glasses. They were thick and brown but from the side that was all he could tell. Her complexion was fair, despite a few freckles.

The thing that caught his attention the most however was her scarlet sweater vest and burnt orange oxford. Her sleeves were already rolled up, she was ready to really get her hands dirty and do some honest work. He liked that. The ensemble was completed by a pair of tan khakis. The only marked difference in their attire was that Percy sported a black tie tucked under his dark blue sweater vest and she was lacking a tie of her own.

'_Well, it's good to finally see some one around here with proper work attire. Let's hope she's as good an addition to the office as she looks.' _Percy's thoughts decided.

The elevator halted once more and they both got out. Half way into the office they were still walking an identical path and had yet to shake one another off. The young witch gave him another polite smile, this time it was something more distressed. He met her with an identical look. What was she playing at?

Their steps quickened and the pair all but broke out into a full force run as they rushed for the desk at the end of their path. It was a breakneck photo finish as they both threw a hand down when they were mere feet from the cherry wood desk.

"This is my desk." he blurted out. Wonderful way to greet some one for the first time.

"I think you've made a mistake. This is **_my _**desk."

"I was referred here this morning. I have a note." he showed her the scrap bit of paper he'd received not ten minutes previous.

"Percy Weatherby-referred to desk 86 on charge of new employee." she mumbled incoherently. He wouldn't have had a clue as to what she was saying if he hadn't memorized the note before hand. The woman looked up with a wrinkle in her nose.

"Your last name is Weatherby?"

"Well, sort of. It's something of an…office nickname."

Frowning, she gave him his note back and with it handed him her own.

"Abigail Weatherby assigned desk 86. Welcome to the Ministry. Work hard and have a pleasant day." he looked up at her, handing back the note. "You're new here?"

"It would appear so."

"Well we can't both have the same desk." Percy turned and looked down at the sitting, scratching his head.

"No, we can't. Don't you already have your own Mr. Weasley?"

He beamed, "Know the name, eh?"

She extended a pointer finger and poked him in the chest.

"It's on your name tag." his look of realization and mild embarrassment caused her to giggle a little before she extended her hand, "I'm Abbey Weatherby, it's nice to meet you."

"Percy Weasley. Well," he sighed, "I suppose we had better get down to the front desk and sort this out."

The young lad at the front desk came back from consulting his manager chuckling.

"There must've been a mix-up with your names at the consul. It's really no big deal. Miss Weatherby, desk 86 is yours. Mr. Weasley you're at desk 54 per usual. Sorry about this you two." and with a sheepish smile the issue was resolved.

Only it really wasn't. Over the next few weeks notice after notice was confused between the two. Messages were delivered to the other unintentionally, both were sent for when meetings were scheduled and their assignments were often mismatched. Somehow, as they crossed paths repeatedly it didn't get tiresome for either. They shared a laugh most times and it became something of an inside joke.

However, one evening Percy rather alarmed himself when he realized he was lagging behind schedule on an enchanted kettle assessment he was due to have done by the following Monday. It was only Friday night, but Percy liked to finish his work early, he always had. The reason behind his mental block was Abigail. Her cute curls and filled out sweater vest kept invading his thoughts and it was getting to be a bother.

He left work on time that night, as opposed to the usual hour extra he spent in the office. As soon as he was home he composed a letter to his brother Bill Weasley, a known charmer with women.

_Bill, _

_I'm writing to you concerning a subject you are known for your expertise in: women. Not that I'm looking for one or anything-actually the difficulty is that I've found one. Well, not **found** one, I mean I **have**…Her name is Abigail Weatherby. She works for the ministry and we tend to run into one another very frequently. The fact that I can't stop thinking about her is starting to become a distraction from my work. Any help on the matter would be appreciated. _

_Your brother,_

_Percy_

Percy was delighted to find a response to his owl just two days later. Only the actual response didn't help him a lick.

_Dear Percy, _

_Ask the girl out for dinner. _

_Good luck,_

_Bill_

It was Percy's conclusion that Bill just didn't understand the mind of a working man. Though it was funny, the next morning in the office Percy couldn't shake the idea of asking Abbey to dinner. Maybe it was crazy, or maybe it was just him, but by the end of the day he was practically in a fever about it. Before he knew what was happening he was strolling up to Abbey's desk. It was like an out of body experience, watching someone else make a complete idiot of themselves. And what was even scarier: with a smile on her freckled face, she'd agreed to have dinner with him that Friday evening.


End file.
